


The Journal of Nero Severn

by timeman6789



Series: Fallen London Stories of Nero Severn [1]
Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeman6789/pseuds/timeman6789
Summary: The story of what happen to Nero Seven before he came to the city that was stolen, Fallen London. Once capital of the British Empire, now home of the Bazaar.I blame my friend for making a backstory for their Fallen London character, which made me want to write this. First attempt of writing a story and posting it.





	

This is the journal of myself, Nero Severn. A record of who I was and what I did before I came down to London, the city that fell. I have heard many things about the city and its current resting place, the Neath. Such things as devils walking among us and colours that make you forget or even remember. This is a record of who I was and what I did, so I hope I don't forget or lose my way. I am writing this while the special constables are on their way.

I guess my story starts on the day of my birth, the winter of 1873 December the 5th in the city of Oxford. I was the son of William and Rose Severn. Both were of high society with a great sum of money despite not working. Most of it was from their parents with a decent income from land and other thing I did not bother myself with. They had one child before me, my brother Jack who was born eight years before me. During my childhood my parents did not do their bests. The job often passed to my brother who looked after me more than my parents did. Now I think why they even had children as my brother was treated no better than I. They never bothered with us, always off to party and events. More concerned with their guests than their own children.

One of my favourite memories of Jack and I was a night in Autumn when I was eight. Nightmares of shadows creatures and darkness. I woke up shaking. I couldn't go to my parents as they would pay no attention. I went looking for my brother, he spent most his time in an old observatory which had a sizeable library. It was part of the family house left over from my grandfather that I never met. He was an academic that studied the star and probably had more in common with us than our parents. He was the only one who used it and looked after it, apart from the maid who simply dusted some books. I made my way out of the house and into the observatory, the only light source a flickering candle. The observatory and library were one big room that took up the whole building, with bookshelves on most walls, soft chairs and tables. The centre of the roof had a big glass panel letting star light shine in. Jack was sitting at the table in the middle of the room. He had trouble sleeping as well most nights, so he spent countless nights reading or searching the stars until he passed out or the sun rose and chased away the stars. As I approached him, he turned his head with a slight smile and bags under his eyes. He gestured to the chair next to him, I sat next to him as he began explaining about the celestial bodies. I rested my head on the table as he continued, his rambling kept my mind off the nightmare I had.

Since then he was no longer the only one was use the observatory, we would use it together. Probably falling asleep more times there than our own bedrooms. When my brother turned eighteen and I was ten, our parents did not even care when he started to take care of me at his apartment during his education at Oxford University. Our parents paying for both, they never minded spending their money on us but never their time. I always looked up to my brother and strived to be like him. Jack wanted to be a professor to teach others and 'forward science' as he liked to say. After he finished his education at the age of twenty four he did go on to teach at Oxford as a professor of physics, I think it was with the stars and planets. It was good back then. I had plans to also go to a University hopefully Oxford so I could stay with my brother. It turned out I would not have to decide.

I returned to the apartment we were living in at the time it was the 23rd of May 1891 I was seventeen. It was a small place, well compared to the mansion we used to live. When I got back I knew he was there as he usually was, so I knocked on the door like I always did.The open slightly from the force of my knock. He never left the door unlocked. I called his name but no reply. I slowly pushed the door. Then I saw him. Body lying on the ground, covered in red. I stood there standing for what felt like an eternity. Twenty heartbeats sooner, and I would have heard his last words. Then a woman's voice followed by a scream. People calling for the police. Questions giving answers that I can't remember. The body being carried away. Silence. It was dark outside when I realised I was somewhere else, looking around I saw that they removed the body but the blood was still there. Stuff was missing, don't know if it was for evidence or taken by the killer. Killer? That was when I actually realised something. Someone did this, the knife marks in his back, the struggle that was obvious.

The next few days were a blur, I left the apartment less than I did before which was saying something. Only leaving for my education and food less than I should have. The funeral was two weeks later. It was quite a big affair with our parents planning it, probably more for their precious image than out of any love for their son.Thinking at least they had a spare. I don't remember much of the funeral, just lots of people saying I'm sorry for your loss and I can't imagine how you feel. When it was over I went back to my apartment. That's when I found it. Under a table, an envelope of dried red flower petals. Red, like my brother’s blood.

Two years later of investigating my brother’s death I travelled to Europe following the bodies that the murder left behind, like a child throwing candy wrappers away without a care. The last body I had gone to investigate was of a woman. Adalene Petit lived in Paris engaged to a Mr. Linford who was at the time missing, now I know he went to London following similar leads. My investigation led to a man who helped the murder escape the police and Paris. He was a short man who looked liked he had never even saw a bath in his life. Never one for violence I often used my parents’ money they normally first seam resistant to it but more money usually works. The man gave me two pieces of information. A name he used 'Scathewick' and secondly a location, he was going to London.

I now had two major clues since I found the envelope. A name and location. I have crossed oceans and spent a sizeable part of my parents’ money to find this man 'Scathewick' . I am even going to have myself sent to New Newgate, the main prison in London, as the quickest route down here to the Neath. Surely the hardest parts are behind me? I am not sure. I can hear the special constable outside searching for me, looks like my plan worked. I will stop at nothing to find the person responsible and there will be a reckoning.


End file.
